Hello everyone! This is my first attempt at making a Fanfic so please tell
me what you think! I'm open to any criticisms or comments. If I get good
reviews, I'll keep doing what I'm doing. If I get bad, I might change a few
things. Please Read and Rate!!!!!! It's the only way I'll know what to do
to make the story better!!!! Thnx everyone! PEACE OUT
(The oh-so necessary disclaimer: I don't own X-men or anything related to it. If my OC's somehow are actual X-men or come across as some kind of X- men copy, then wow cause I thought they were original (Except for Syren. I took her from the Movie))
Tripp Striker stood out in the open, not caring about who could see them. He was way past that by now. He didn't care that he was wanted, wanted by just about everyone that gave a shit about mutants. He was a mutant, which was dangerous enough but, to complicate matters, He was a wanted mutant. Wanted by the government, wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., wanted by H.Y.D.R.A., wanted by Friends of Humanity, wanted by the Mutant Control Association and by about a dozen foreign governments. Not that any of this mattered of course.
Tripp had managed to defy the odds again and again. He escaped from H.Y.D.R.A.; from they're anti mutant army in which he had spent his entire childhood training to kill until he was 16. Shortly after he turned 16, he was returning to his bunker for the night when he heard one of the chief commanders talking to one of the head scientist about the progress of the army. For some reason, he decided to listen in on the conversation. It was then that he found out the truth about the army. They were genetically engineered mutants, born in a lab and made for one purpose: to wipe out the rest of the mutant population on earth.
He couldn't believe the truth. All his life he was raised on lies. He was trained to kill his own and then be killed themselves. He quickly hurried back to his bunker before he was late and settled in for the night. As the lights went off, he pondered his existence and what he should do. He could not go on training any longer, knowing now what they were training them for. What could he do? It then hit him: escape. It would be very risky and the chances were good that he would be caught, but he must do it, he though to himself. His mid raced for the rest of the night, pondering what he could do to escape. Eventually, he came up with a plan. He would steal some explosives and blow up the training yard and escape, knowing that they would be too preoccupied with the explosions to think about him.
Over the next couple of weeks, he put his plan to action, stealing C-4 explosives from the armory. It was very risky and he almost got caught once. He had gather roughly enough for a dozen when he decided to go through with his plan. On that night, a cold, snowy night in December, he pretended to be asleep in his bed, waiting until everyone around him fell asleep. He then proceeded to get out of bed with the utmost carefulness. He slipped out of the main room, into a hallway and then out of a window nearby. As he climbed out, he planted one of the explosives around the door, ensuring that his fellow soldiers would not stop him. He then proceeded to hit the remainder of the bunkers, along with the 4 watchtowers, the armory and the officer's quarters. He had set all 12 to go off at 12:00 PM exactly. He had finished his work a couple of minutes prior to midnight so he sat and waited, preparing for the pandemonium that would soon follow.
At 12:00 precise, a chorus of explosion went off throughout the camp. Screams of horror and panic quickly followed as eh lay in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to run. Eventually, through the panic of people running around and sirens blaring, he saw his chance. The south watchtower completely deserted and the gate was all but demolished. He cautiously started out for it, being careful not to be seen. As he neared the last building, he broke out into an all out run, moving as quickly as he could. He reached the tower and didn't look back, running into the woods.
For about 3 weeks, he had managed to stay alive and avoid being caught. He soon found his way out of the woods and near a train station. He hopped onto the first one he saw and rode all the way to New York City in a cargo hold. As he got off the train, he was overtaken by the cities size. It was bigger then anything he could've possibly imagined. As he wandered the streets, he walked into a figure in an orange shroud with a shaved head. The figure turned around to reveal an old, oriental man. "You look lost and confused," said the man, much to the Shock of Tripp. He had been trained in H.Y.D.R.A. to just say sorry to "sorry" to anyone he bumped into. "Sorry" he said in an almost robotic like voice before turning to continuing on his way. "You look like you could use some guidance." the man spoke once more, a wise tone to his voice. "Well I could use some guidance." He said Sheepishly. I'm on my own now, I'll need all the help I can get he thought.
The old man invited him back to his house, a small apartment in a large tenement. His house was furnished with a lot of beads and oriental patterns, intriguing Tripp. The two soon settled down and started along long lengthy talk. One Tripp was sure he could trust him, He told him about his past, about the training camp, about the army and about his escape. The old man took this in and sat there sorting out the information in his head. He sat for about 5 minutes, contemplating the situation of the young man he had just brought into his house. At last, he spoke: "You have obviously had a rough life, one coated in violence in lies. If you work with me, I'll work with you and help you to learn the truths of life and the way's of the world". Tripp though for a minute then agreed.
He moved in and soon started learning learning about stuff he never even though about before. The old man thought him of history and current affairs, the ways of Buddhism, psychology of humans and how to mediate. He soon started mediating and actively practicing Buddhism. About 3 moths after he had moved in, Tripp was reading the newspaper when he came across an article about the formation of the Mutant Control Agency or MCA as it was called. The article went on to give an official statement from them that finally pushed Tripp over the edge: "No mutant will ever step foot on these streets and be safe!" As he finished reading this, his anger got the best of him and he trough the newspaper to the ground and let out a cry of anger from him. He soon settled down but as he did, he made a decision: he would go out to rescue and unite the mutants on the streets.
He soon set out and was lucky enough to find other mutants like him that shared his belief of rising up against the MCA and joined him, soon attacking back against patrols and bombing MCA posts. The "Renegades" as they were called, had managed to put down one of the MCA's head posts, the MCA really got angry made a public announcement: "Whatever scum it is who is behind the attacks on our posts, we will find you and you will pay!" This only provoked more attacks against them and soon, all out war was being fought. The fighting had recently died down in the current month, thus giving Tripp and his Renegades more time to relax.
As his mind came back to the present, he and his band of Mutant rebels were now sitting by a stoop on a crowded New York avenue, watching the people as they passed by. It was only 7 in the morning, but the day was bustling with activity as the workers went to their jobs, not knowing that they were passing an international mutant terrorist group that had managed to fend off any threat that opposed them. Of course, none of them could ever know. They looked like a regular groups of homeless teens on the street.
He continued to sit there, taking in his surroundings. He was nonchalantly sitting on the stoop, sipping some Jack Daniels out of his silver flask. He reveled in its taste as he sipped it nonchalantly, knowing that the police wouldn't hesitate in arresting his ass and throwing him strait into a prison cell. The cops hated homeless people and were always looking to get rid of them. "Let them try." He thought to himself. He could take them easily. He had taken on people 3 times his size and beaten them easily. He had managed to almost always come out on top. Maybe it was his skill or maybe it was just his luck.
He shifted over, looking at his team. They were a mixed bunch, mostly mutant teens from abusive homes that ran away and lived on the streets. Some of them preferred rough hard street punk; some enjoyed heavy metal pounding their skulls, while a few listened to Goth/industrial. They all dressed differently and their attitudes made them seem like they were from different planets. But they all shared one thing in common though: They all wanted unity and peace between mutants and humans and they were prepared to take any actions to do it. That one fact united them all in their efforts at achieving peace.
As he looked them over, he remembered how they all came to him. Edge was the first to join him. He was currently sitting on the bottom step, scowling at the people that dared to look at them. He had rough, spiked green hair and deep brown eyes that could tell of a battle. Although he was only 15, he looked at least 18 because of the hard life he led. He was quite formidable looking, with his patch covered jacket and his spiked choker. What made him even more dangerous though was his power: he could produce metal spikes and objects from his body. When he had first met Edge, his power was very uncontrolled. A sneeze could send spikes flying, making him very dangerous to be around. But as he trained him, he gained control over his power. Enabling him to hold back his spikes and in time, shape them into different things. Out of all the others, Edge was quite arguably the best leader. He seldom let his emotions get the best of him and was always conscientious of his friends. That's why he put hi in charge as a secondary leader.
Across from Edge was Plasma. She was a very rugged girl, you could tell it just by looking at her. She was 15, had very dirty brown hair, brown eyes, rather revealing clothing and the look on her face was practically and invite to any male, though she never went passed flirting. Her power helped assure this being that she could shock anyone within 10 feet of her. Her power might have also begun as a result of the hard life she led. Her parents never really liked her, and her mother beat her often, being that she was jealous of her daughter's good looks. She had soon run away and caught up with his group. Despite her appearance, she was generally tender and friendly. She liked children and was always kind to those who were nice to her. Piss her off though and you'd regret it.
Just as he was looking at her, a burst of laughter came from behind her. He looked up to see Hydro and Rocky, the second and third to join the group, laughing quite hard and pointing. At first he wasn't sure what was so funny, but then he looked at what they were pointing at and it became clear. They had tactfully placed an "I FUCK NUNS" sticker on a business mans briefcase. The other teens soon took notice and laughed hard as well. The little incident reminded him of when they first met.
It had been about 3 months since he escaped from the camp and met Edge. He was waiting outside a grocery store as Edge went to buy some food. As he was waiting, He started to hear shouting from behind the building. At first he though nothing of it, but then he started to hear what they were saying. He heard the words "Mutie!" "Damn" and "Die!" all in the same sentence, and immediately decided to investigate. He ran around to the back of the building to see a group of teens, most of them jocks, surrounding two small preteens.
What made the situation very interesting was that neither of the boys were scared. One of them was roughly 5 feet tall, with a leather jacket and ripped black pants. The other was a tall, lanky punk, with spiked blue hair and grungy, Salvation Army bought clothes. They both had defiant looks on their faces as they faced off against a load of muscular jocks at least twice their size.
Without warning, one of them lunged at the short one, only to be stopped in midair. He fell flatly to the ground with a thud, revealing the short boys altered body state. His skin was now very gray and pale. Taking a second look, he saw that the boy's body had taken a rock like property, making him stone hard. The group of teens had become discouraged after this, but continued to attack. The short boy continued to pummel them with his rock hard fists. While that went on, the tall one demonstrated his karate skills by agilely kicking two jocks into a dumpster. As he did so, a jock came charging at him from behind unexpectedly.
The boy was caught boy surprise as the enraged jock grabbed him. He raised his fist in the air, preparing to give an earth shattering punch, and then flung his fist down. He was expecting to hear the sound of bones crunching but, just before the fist hit his face, the boy's body seemed to liquidate. In less then a second he had turned to a puddle of water. This surprised the jock, who stepped back with a confused look on his face. As he did, the puddle sprung up in the air and reassembled itself in the shape of the boy, then became solid. Wasting no time, he delivered a quick punch and kick, sending the thug flying back.
It didn't take long for the teens to realize they had bit off more then they could chew, and they quickly ran away. Both boys started to relax and gather themselves, a hint of satisfaction and whooping the jocks. He quickly went over and called out to them. At first they were cautious of him, but when he showed them that he was a mutant like them, they relaxed a lot more. He talked to them a bit more, and started to learn more about them. They had both come from abusive homes, ran away and met in the city and were living by stealing a lying. He told them of his plans and insights, and they agreed to join him. Ever since that day, they were an active part of the team and brought a lighter side to their work, playing gags here a there to relive the tension. Although they were both 13 and pretty young, they worked as hard as the rest of the team, and were definitely an important asset to the team.
Coming back to reality, he slowly shifted glances from his comical teammates to the more secluded members. A small girl of about 15 with Dark hair and eyes caught his attention. Shade. She was the smallest member of the group, but quite arguably the most mature. They had found her huddled behind a dumpster, shivering and petrified.
He remembered how when he first approached her, she recoiled with a stinging look of fear in her eyes. Looking at him like he had just kicked her. The memory made him shudder. She was a lot better adjusted now; she would talk to people if talked to, but would usually be sarcastic and negative, though that was her normal mood. She was a born pessimist and a natural smart mouth, but hey, that's who she is.
Across from her was Syren, beautiful, seductive and very dangerous yet only 15. She had bright radiant blonde hair and deep, piercing blue eyes. Her body was slim and extremely tan, looking like she just came back from a trip from the tropics. She was the kind of girl men fantasized about in their sleep. Her power was much like her image, an ear shattering and mind- numbing scream that would usually leave the victim squirming in the ground, begging for the noise to stop. She especially liked to use her power when clubbing, leaving a bunch of arrogant, cocky perverts a reaction they never dreamed of experiencing. Her accent was the only thing that shattered he city girl image. She was born in Alabama, and her accent had always been strong. It was pretty much the only thing she really wanted to change about herself.
As he was pondering, a tall, muscular figure came over and sat next to him. He could recognize that figure anywhere. Mystic. Mystic was a rather interesting member of the group. He had strong broad shoulders, a muscular 6-pack chest and a tan that looked like he came from Hawaii. Considering he was 16, He had extremely good looks for his age. Another thing that made him different from the group was the fact that he didn't come from a poor or abusive home, but from an Indian preservation in South Dakota.
He had come to the city after running away from a foster home. The government split him and his parents apart, citing that their lifestyle was dangerous for him. He didn't spend more then a day in the home before fleeing it and hopping on the first train he saw. By chance, it happened to land in NY before the conductor found him and threw him off. He had wandered around for a month before reaching the city. It was also his luck that he ran into the groups of mutants and soon joined.
At first he didn't think he had any mutant powers, but soon, they discovered something about him that even he didn't know. While growing up, he had practiced the old Indian healing magic his grandfather had taught him. He practiced his medicine on mostly the people in his tribe and was set to take over as the official medicine man of his tribe when his grandfather could no longer. But that chance never came, as the government split up him and his family. The first time he ever practiced his healing was when Edge had come home hurt after getting into a fight with some thugs. He had a huge gash across his left arm that kept him from using it. As the rest of the young mutants tried bandaging it, Mystic decided to give his magic a try. He simply placed his hand against the blood, concentrating his mental focus on healing, and slid it down the gash, making it disappear as he did so. To say this shocked everyone would be an understatement. Mystic wasn't sure of why everyone was in shock, but they explained to him the ways of modern medicine and he soon found himself shocked too. He became an active member of the team afterwards, with his newfound power of healing.
As he was thinking, someone behind him touched him. He turned around to see a very bored and tired looking 16 year old Hispanic female looking at him with a look of pure boredom. "Can we do something, already?" she asked, her voice thick with annoyance. "We will soon enough, Vortex" he responded. She gave him a look that seamed to promise death if he did not carry out his promise. She was quite debatably the most out-of-place member of the group. She wore Salvation Army bought clothes, yet they were relatively normal to the punk and biker getups most of the group was wearing. She had this look on her face too that hinted of a well bred past. He had assumed this since the day they had met her. She had almost perfect English, almost never using slang. It really made him wonder how she was raised.
"Hey, everyone!" He called out suddenly, disrupting the conversations going on around him as they snapped to attention. "We all got to live, and if we wanna live, we gotta get busy. Edge, Hydro, Rocky and Shade, go rip off some stupid Yuppie Tourists. Take all that you can," He said as they started off towards the center of the city. "Plasma, Vortex and Syren, you'd better get started on your seducing". As he said the words, big smiles broke across all the girls' faces. "No prob" Syren responded, quite happy with the work she was about to do. "Mystic, you can come with me. We'll see if we can find out anything about the Friends of Humanity or The MCA. They haven't bothered us for a bit, so I'm guessing their plotting something. Mystic nodded coolly and soon the entire group was off. It was another day, another fight for survival, and they sure as hell weren't about to lose.
Well, that the first chapter. The next ones will be from the other characters in the story, to give a good description of them. I will bring in the rest of the X-men cast later on. Thank you to the people who actually bothered to read my story, PEACE OUT
(The oh-so necessary disclaimer: I don't own X-men or anything related to it. If my OC's somehow are actual X-men or come across as some kind of X- men copy, then wow cause I thought they were original (Except for Syren. I took her from the Movie))
Tripp Striker stood out in the open, not caring about who could see them. He was way past that by now. He didn't care that he was wanted, wanted by just about everyone that gave a shit about mutants. He was a mutant, which was dangerous enough but, to complicate matters, He was a wanted mutant. Wanted by the government, wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., wanted by H.Y.D.R.A., wanted by Friends of Humanity, wanted by the Mutant Control Association and by about a dozen foreign governments. Not that any of this mattered of course.
Tripp had managed to defy the odds again and again. He escaped from H.Y.D.R.A.; from they're anti mutant army in which he had spent his entire childhood training to kill until he was 16. Shortly after he turned 16, he was returning to his bunker for the night when he heard one of the chief commanders talking to one of the head scientist about the progress of the army. For some reason, he decided to listen in on the conversation. It was then that he found out the truth about the army. They were genetically engineered mutants, born in a lab and made for one purpose: to wipe out the rest of the mutant population on earth.
He couldn't believe the truth. All his life he was raised on lies. He was trained to kill his own and then be killed themselves. He quickly hurried back to his bunker before he was late and settled in for the night. As the lights went off, he pondered his existence and what he should do. He could not go on training any longer, knowing now what they were training them for. What could he do? It then hit him: escape. It would be very risky and the chances were good that he would be caught, but he must do it, he though to himself. His mid raced for the rest of the night, pondering what he could do to escape. Eventually, he came up with a plan. He would steal some explosives and blow up the training yard and escape, knowing that they would be too preoccupied with the explosions to think about him.
Over the next couple of weeks, he put his plan to action, stealing C-4 explosives from the armory. It was very risky and he almost got caught once. He had gather roughly enough for a dozen when he decided to go through with his plan. On that night, a cold, snowy night in December, he pretended to be asleep in his bed, waiting until everyone around him fell asleep. He then proceeded to get out of bed with the utmost carefulness. He slipped out of the main room, into a hallway and then out of a window nearby. As he climbed out, he planted one of the explosives around the door, ensuring that his fellow soldiers would not stop him. He then proceeded to hit the remainder of the bunkers, along with the 4 watchtowers, the armory and the officer's quarters. He had set all 12 to go off at 12:00 PM exactly. He had finished his work a couple of minutes prior to midnight so he sat and waited, preparing for the pandemonium that would soon follow.
At 12:00 precise, a chorus of explosion went off throughout the camp. Screams of horror and panic quickly followed as eh lay in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to run. Eventually, through the panic of people running around and sirens blaring, he saw his chance. The south watchtower completely deserted and the gate was all but demolished. He cautiously started out for it, being careful not to be seen. As he neared the last building, he broke out into an all out run, moving as quickly as he could. He reached the tower and didn't look back, running into the woods.
For about 3 weeks, he had managed to stay alive and avoid being caught. He soon found his way out of the woods and near a train station. He hopped onto the first one he saw and rode all the way to New York City in a cargo hold. As he got off the train, he was overtaken by the cities size. It was bigger then anything he could've possibly imagined. As he wandered the streets, he walked into a figure in an orange shroud with a shaved head. The figure turned around to reveal an old, oriental man. "You look lost and confused," said the man, much to the Shock of Tripp. He had been trained in H.Y.D.R.A. to just say sorry to "sorry" to anyone he bumped into. "Sorry" he said in an almost robotic like voice before turning to continuing on his way. "You look like you could use some guidance." the man spoke once more, a wise tone to his voice. "Well I could use some guidance." He said Sheepishly. I'm on my own now, I'll need all the help I can get he thought.
The old man invited him back to his house, a small apartment in a large tenement. His house was furnished with a lot of beads and oriental patterns, intriguing Tripp. The two soon settled down and started along long lengthy talk. One Tripp was sure he could trust him, He told him about his past, about the training camp, about the army and about his escape. The old man took this in and sat there sorting out the information in his head. He sat for about 5 minutes, contemplating the situation of the young man he had just brought into his house. At last, he spoke: "You have obviously had a rough life, one coated in violence in lies. If you work with me, I'll work with you and help you to learn the truths of life and the way's of the world". Tripp though for a minute then agreed.
He moved in and soon started learning learning about stuff he never even though about before. The old man thought him of history and current affairs, the ways of Buddhism, psychology of humans and how to mediate. He soon started mediating and actively practicing Buddhism. About 3 moths after he had moved in, Tripp was reading the newspaper when he came across an article about the formation of the Mutant Control Agency or MCA as it was called. The article went on to give an official statement from them that finally pushed Tripp over the edge: "No mutant will ever step foot on these streets and be safe!" As he finished reading this, his anger got the best of him and he trough the newspaper to the ground and let out a cry of anger from him. He soon settled down but as he did, he made a decision: he would go out to rescue and unite the mutants on the streets.
He soon set out and was lucky enough to find other mutants like him that shared his belief of rising up against the MCA and joined him, soon attacking back against patrols and bombing MCA posts. The "Renegades" as they were called, had managed to put down one of the MCA's head posts, the MCA really got angry made a public announcement: "Whatever scum it is who is behind the attacks on our posts, we will find you and you will pay!" This only provoked more attacks against them and soon, all out war was being fought. The fighting had recently died down in the current month, thus giving Tripp and his Renegades more time to relax.
As his mind came back to the present, he and his band of Mutant rebels were now sitting by a stoop on a crowded New York avenue, watching the people as they passed by. It was only 7 in the morning, but the day was bustling with activity as the workers went to their jobs, not knowing that they were passing an international mutant terrorist group that had managed to fend off any threat that opposed them. Of course, none of them could ever know. They looked like a regular groups of homeless teens on the street.
He continued to sit there, taking in his surroundings. He was nonchalantly sitting on the stoop, sipping some Jack Daniels out of his silver flask. He reveled in its taste as he sipped it nonchalantly, knowing that the police wouldn't hesitate in arresting his ass and throwing him strait into a prison cell. The cops hated homeless people and were always looking to get rid of them. "Let them try." He thought to himself. He could take them easily. He had taken on people 3 times his size and beaten them easily. He had managed to almost always come out on top. Maybe it was his skill or maybe it was just his luck.
He shifted over, looking at his team. They were a mixed bunch, mostly mutant teens from abusive homes that ran away and lived on the streets. Some of them preferred rough hard street punk; some enjoyed heavy metal pounding their skulls, while a few listened to Goth/industrial. They all dressed differently and their attitudes made them seem like they were from different planets. But they all shared one thing in common though: They all wanted unity and peace between mutants and humans and they were prepared to take any actions to do it. That one fact united them all in their efforts at achieving peace.
As he looked them over, he remembered how they all came to him. Edge was the first to join him. He was currently sitting on the bottom step, scowling at the people that dared to look at them. He had rough, spiked green hair and deep brown eyes that could tell of a battle. Although he was only 15, he looked at least 18 because of the hard life he led. He was quite formidable looking, with his patch covered jacket and his spiked choker. What made him even more dangerous though was his power: he could produce metal spikes and objects from his body. When he had first met Edge, his power was very uncontrolled. A sneeze could send spikes flying, making him very dangerous to be around. But as he trained him, he gained control over his power. Enabling him to hold back his spikes and in time, shape them into different things. Out of all the others, Edge was quite arguably the best leader. He seldom let his emotions get the best of him and was always conscientious of his friends. That's why he put hi in charge as a secondary leader.
Across from Edge was Plasma. She was a very rugged girl, you could tell it just by looking at her. She was 15, had very dirty brown hair, brown eyes, rather revealing clothing and the look on her face was practically and invite to any male, though she never went passed flirting. Her power helped assure this being that she could shock anyone within 10 feet of her. Her power might have also begun as a result of the hard life she led. Her parents never really liked her, and her mother beat her often, being that she was jealous of her daughter's good looks. She had soon run away and caught up with his group. Despite her appearance, she was generally tender and friendly. She liked children and was always kind to those who were nice to her. Piss her off though and you'd regret it.
Just as he was looking at her, a burst of laughter came from behind her. He looked up to see Hydro and Rocky, the second and third to join the group, laughing quite hard and pointing. At first he wasn't sure what was so funny, but then he looked at what they were pointing at and it became clear. They had tactfully placed an "I FUCK NUNS" sticker on a business mans briefcase. The other teens soon took notice and laughed hard as well. The little incident reminded him of when they first met.
It had been about 3 months since he escaped from the camp and met Edge. He was waiting outside a grocery store as Edge went to buy some food. As he was waiting, He started to hear shouting from behind the building. At first he though nothing of it, but then he started to hear what they were saying. He heard the words "Mutie!" "Damn" and "Die!" all in the same sentence, and immediately decided to investigate. He ran around to the back of the building to see a group of teens, most of them jocks, surrounding two small preteens.
What made the situation very interesting was that neither of the boys were scared. One of them was roughly 5 feet tall, with a leather jacket and ripped black pants. The other was a tall, lanky punk, with spiked blue hair and grungy, Salvation Army bought clothes. They both had defiant looks on their faces as they faced off against a load of muscular jocks at least twice their size.
Without warning, one of them lunged at the short one, only to be stopped in midair. He fell flatly to the ground with a thud, revealing the short boys altered body state. His skin was now very gray and pale. Taking a second look, he saw that the boy's body had taken a rock like property, making him stone hard. The group of teens had become discouraged after this, but continued to attack. The short boy continued to pummel them with his rock hard fists. While that went on, the tall one demonstrated his karate skills by agilely kicking two jocks into a dumpster. As he did so, a jock came charging at him from behind unexpectedly.
The boy was caught boy surprise as the enraged jock grabbed him. He raised his fist in the air, preparing to give an earth shattering punch, and then flung his fist down. He was expecting to hear the sound of bones crunching but, just before the fist hit his face, the boy's body seemed to liquidate. In less then a second he had turned to a puddle of water. This surprised the jock, who stepped back with a confused look on his face. As he did, the puddle sprung up in the air and reassembled itself in the shape of the boy, then became solid. Wasting no time, he delivered a quick punch and kick, sending the thug flying back.
It didn't take long for the teens to realize they had bit off more then they could chew, and they quickly ran away. Both boys started to relax and gather themselves, a hint of satisfaction and whooping the jocks. He quickly went over and called out to them. At first they were cautious of him, but when he showed them that he was a mutant like them, they relaxed a lot more. He talked to them a bit more, and started to learn more about them. They had both come from abusive homes, ran away and met in the city and were living by stealing a lying. He told them of his plans and insights, and they agreed to join him. Ever since that day, they were an active part of the team and brought a lighter side to their work, playing gags here a there to relive the tension. Although they were both 13 and pretty young, they worked as hard as the rest of the team, and were definitely an important asset to the team.
Coming back to reality, he slowly shifted glances from his comical teammates to the more secluded members. A small girl of about 15 with Dark hair and eyes caught his attention. Shade. She was the smallest member of the group, but quite arguably the most mature. They had found her huddled behind a dumpster, shivering and petrified.
He remembered how when he first approached her, she recoiled with a stinging look of fear in her eyes. Looking at him like he had just kicked her. The memory made him shudder. She was a lot better adjusted now; she would talk to people if talked to, but would usually be sarcastic and negative, though that was her normal mood. She was a born pessimist and a natural smart mouth, but hey, that's who she is.
Across from her was Syren, beautiful, seductive and very dangerous yet only 15. She had bright radiant blonde hair and deep, piercing blue eyes. Her body was slim and extremely tan, looking like she just came back from a trip from the tropics. She was the kind of girl men fantasized about in their sleep. Her power was much like her image, an ear shattering and mind- numbing scream that would usually leave the victim squirming in the ground, begging for the noise to stop. She especially liked to use her power when clubbing, leaving a bunch of arrogant, cocky perverts a reaction they never dreamed of experiencing. Her accent was the only thing that shattered he city girl image. She was born in Alabama, and her accent had always been strong. It was pretty much the only thing she really wanted to change about herself.
As he was pondering, a tall, muscular figure came over and sat next to him. He could recognize that figure anywhere. Mystic. Mystic was a rather interesting member of the group. He had strong broad shoulders, a muscular 6-pack chest and a tan that looked like he came from Hawaii. Considering he was 16, He had extremely good looks for his age. Another thing that made him different from the group was the fact that he didn't come from a poor or abusive home, but from an Indian preservation in South Dakota.
He had come to the city after running away from a foster home. The government split him and his parents apart, citing that their lifestyle was dangerous for him. He didn't spend more then a day in the home before fleeing it and hopping on the first train he saw. By chance, it happened to land in NY before the conductor found him and threw him off. He had wandered around for a month before reaching the city. It was also his luck that he ran into the groups of mutants and soon joined.
At first he didn't think he had any mutant powers, but soon, they discovered something about him that even he didn't know. While growing up, he had practiced the old Indian healing magic his grandfather had taught him. He practiced his medicine on mostly the people in his tribe and was set to take over as the official medicine man of his tribe when his grandfather could no longer. But that chance never came, as the government split up him and his family. The first time he ever practiced his healing was when Edge had come home hurt after getting into a fight with some thugs. He had a huge gash across his left arm that kept him from using it. As the rest of the young mutants tried bandaging it, Mystic decided to give his magic a try. He simply placed his hand against the blood, concentrating his mental focus on healing, and slid it down the gash, making it disappear as he did so. To say this shocked everyone would be an understatement. Mystic wasn't sure of why everyone was in shock, but they explained to him the ways of modern medicine and he soon found himself shocked too. He became an active member of the team afterwards, with his newfound power of healing.
As he was thinking, someone behind him touched him. He turned around to see a very bored and tired looking 16 year old Hispanic female looking at him with a look of pure boredom. "Can we do something, already?" she asked, her voice thick with annoyance. "We will soon enough, Vortex" he responded. She gave him a look that seamed to promise death if he did not carry out his promise. She was quite debatably the most out-of-place member of the group. She wore Salvation Army bought clothes, yet they were relatively normal to the punk and biker getups most of the group was wearing. She had this look on her face too that hinted of a well bred past. He had assumed this since the day they had met her. She had almost perfect English, almost never using slang. It really made him wonder how she was raised.
"Hey, everyone!" He called out suddenly, disrupting the conversations going on around him as they snapped to attention. "We all got to live, and if we wanna live, we gotta get busy. Edge, Hydro, Rocky and Shade, go rip off some stupid Yuppie Tourists. Take all that you can," He said as they started off towards the center of the city. "Plasma, Vortex and Syren, you'd better get started on your seducing". As he said the words, big smiles broke across all the girls' faces. "No prob" Syren responded, quite happy with the work she was about to do. "Mystic, you can come with me. We'll see if we can find out anything about the Friends of Humanity or The MCA. They haven't bothered us for a bit, so I'm guessing their plotting something. Mystic nodded coolly and soon the entire group was off. It was another day, another fight for survival, and they sure as hell weren't about to lose.
Well, that the first chapter. The next ones will be from the other characters in the story, to give a good description of them. I will bring in the rest of the X-men cast later on. Thank you to the people who actually bothered to read my story, PEACE OUT